I was driving home tonight, sobbing. I miss my old blog. I’d purposely kept it secret because I knew that if I was conscious of people I know reading my words, I’d censor myself. I’d fix things up, and hold back the ugly, and I’d write to what I thought they’d want to hear. And, frankly, that’s not what my heart needs. When my heart hurts, it needs to be able to pour words onto paper (screen) without reservations or regrets. And here we are.